


Pulse Point

by GoldenTruth813



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Banter, Bottom Keith (Voltron), Communication, Crying During Sex, Dirty Talk, Dorks in Love, Endearments, Established Relationship, Heartbeat Kink, Heartbeats, Keith Calls Shiro Baby, Kink Discovery, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Service Top Shiro (Voltron), med school au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:20:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24625375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenTruth813/pseuds/GoldenTruth813
Summary: Keith’s burnt out and restless from hours of studying. Shiro’s more than happy to provide some stress relief.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 45
Kudos: 337





	Pulse Point

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sainnis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sainnis/gifts).
  * Inspired by [You're My Medicine](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22442554) by [sainnis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sainnis/pseuds/sainnis). 



> This fic is set in Sainnis's med school AU and she graciously allowed me to play in her sandbox. This fic reads as a standalone and all you need to know is that Shiro and Keith are med school students, roommates and boyfriends. You don't have to read [You're My Medicine](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22442554) first to understand this fic but it's so good that I highly recommend you do.
> 
> thank you cyborgtopus for the beta :)

Keith taps the end of his pencil against his open textbook, his leg restlessly shaking beneath the table. Every inch of him feels ready to blow, his nerves stripped raw like a livewire. They’ve been sitting here for so long that his ass is numb, his back aches, and his brain feels fuzzy.

Studying. So much studying. 

Objectively Keith knew med school would be hard. Of course he knew. But knowing something was true and experiencing it firsthand is worlds apart. 

Before he officially began, he prepared for what lay ahead as much as he could. He read every article he could his hands on about ways to avoid burnout, how to cope with the rigorous expectations and mentally psyched himself up for the fact that most USMLE study schedules required a good five hundred to six hundred hours of study. An amount so large it worked out to ten fucking hours a day. On top hours spent in classes. It left very little time for anything else including eating or sleep.

Most of the time Keith can manage the brutal schedule because he genuinely loves what he is studying. Being a doctor is his dream and every hour of mind numbing studying gets him one step closer to that dream. It also helps that Shiro is always around offering him a cup of coffee or an encouraging smile. Even better are the bone crushing hugs he gets when they finish a chapter.

Shiro’s the best roommate, friend and external motivation Keith’s ever had. He’s also now Keith’s boyfriend and therefore the worst distraction ever.

Across the table, Shiro sits blissfully unaware of Keith’s internal struggle, his earbuds in as he listens to some classical music he swears helps him retain information. His head is tipped forward, long arms folded as he leans over his textbook. His lips move silently, mouthing out what he’s reading on the page. 

He’s so cute sometimes it makes Keith want to cover his face and scream. It’s been months since they got together and the novelty of Shiro being _his_ has not yet worn off. He’s not sure it ever will. Keith’s always been fiercely independent by nature, disinclined to desire either sexual dalliances or long-term commitments. Until Shiro.

Shiro makes Keith want all kinds of things he never thought he might, while giving him the companionship and stability he’d all but given up hope of ever finding. He’s also drop dead fucking gorgeous and a complete nerd who not only understands Keith’s insane schedule because he lives it, but supports him every step of the way never taking it personally when their school careers come before their relationship. There’s so much sacrifice that goes alone with becoming a doctor, and Keith wakes up every day grateful that the person he fell in love with understands his passion and drive so acutely.

As if all of that isn’t reason enough to find Shiro fucking perfect, he acts like Keith talking about coronary arteries in bed is dirty talk. Which, well--considering Shiro’s heartbeat kink he supposes it is. And maybe Keith’s taken to talking about anything heartbeat related a little more lately, but who can blame him. Shiro always gets so worked up, his skin flushing a pretty pink and his heart racing. It’s erotic to see the way his own words affect him, doubly so to hear the effect he has on Shiro.

Just thinking about Shiro’s heart racing because of Keith sets him on edge, his dick giving a twitch of interest in his ratty sweatpants. He wants to hit himself over the head with his textbook. It’s studying time, not thirsty over Shiro time.

Then again, all Keith needs to do is look at Shiro and he wants him something bone deep and fierce. Almost on cue, Shiro’s mouth stops moving as he stops reading to lift his head. The sight of Shiro’s pretty eyes turned on him makes Keith feel hot under the collar and he shoots Shiro a flirty wink on instinct, not at all embarrassed at being caught staring. Shiro’s gorgeous, worthy of being looked at with adoration and he deserves to know it.

Shiro’s lips curl up in the corners, a bashful smile spreading across his face as a pale rosy flush spreads across the bridge of his nose. He’s so easy to please—and make blush. Heat pools in Keith’s belly at the familiar sight. Fuck.

Keith returns the smile then drops his face to his textbook. If he stares too long then Shiro might think he can’t concentrate, which might be the truth but isn’t something Keith wants Shiro to know right now. Shiro’s been just as stressed as Keith, just as exhausted—it’s not his fault Keith’s teaching the end of his proverbial rope. Eager to look like he’s studying he flips the page, making a mental note to review the previous page later as he moves on to the next chapter. 

Keith doesn’t risk looking up to see if Shiro is still watching him because if he does and he is, then Shiro will officially pause his own studying to ask Keith what’s wrong. Which means when he finds out he will demand they take a short break to work through whatever it is that’s stopping him from focusing. Which is, well—sweet, and kind. Shiro’s an amazing study buddy. But Shiro’s been running on an empty battery lately too, especially coupled with his physical therapy and the upgrade to his prosthetic last week. Not that Shiro lets it show, that would require Shiro to admit he is tired which he never willingly does. He actually did indicate he needed a nap on Tuesday though, after a rough night's sleep. It’s a baby step, but it’s in the right direction and Keith doesn’t take it for granted how very much Shiro trusts him. 

Besides, he feels guilty enough about his own inability to concentrate on the material at hand. He’s already read the same paragraph no less than five times with the minimal comprehension. The last thing he needs to do is drag Shiro down with him to the depths of unproductiveness. 

Resolved to make himself focus out of sheer stubbornness he returns his focus to the page in front of him and almost immediately feels his brain shoot off in a million directions. Frustrated, he shoves his chair away from the table and stalks to the fridge to grab a cold water. He can see Shiro trying to discreetly watch him out of the corner of his eye and the guilt picks up. He’s not supposed to be distracting Shiro. 

“Just thirsty,” Keith lies, shaking the water bottle before chugging some. 

Shiro smiles before returning his attention to his book, grabbing his pencil and scribbling something on the notepad beside him before reaching for the blue highlighter. Shiro’s studying habits are as mind boggling as they are impressive—his half of the table looking like something off Pinterest with his color coded notes and impressive penmanship. Keith’s half of the table has candy bar wrappers, two pencils—both of which he chewed the eraser off—and half a cup of cold coffee he’s planning on finishing even if it now tastes like tire sludge. To his own credit Keith’s not a complete disaster his notes are thorough and detailed but he’s miles away from possessing Shiro’s impeccable organizational skills.

Keith ends up chugging the entire water bottle in one go, apparently more thirsty than he realized. Unfortunately when he sits down once more his ability to focus does not magically return. If anything, it’s the opposite. 

He’s acutely aware of the way Shiro’s lip purse when he’s deep in concentration and the way his big hand looks wrapped around his pencil. His fingers are so thick, so strong—capable of so much but always showing tenderness. 

The awareness that he’s spiraling down into a pit of arousal is there, but Keith’s too keyed up to care. It’s been weeks since he and Shiro had enough time or energy to do more than rut against each other with their clothes still on or a too quick hand job during a joint shower. 

Keith misses touching Shiro. He misses having enough time to really work Shiro up until his heart is racing. He misses having enough time to spread Shiro out on the bed and watch him come undone. He also misses when they had enough time for a decent blowjob. Shiro’s mouth is a goddamn thing of beauty, and just thinking about those pretty lips wrapped around Keith’s dick makes his dick thicken. 

“Keith.”

Shiro on his knees is a revelation. Keith’s not exactly what someone might call experienced, but he’s got enough to know that Shiro’s mouth should be in the Guinness book of world records. The things he does with his tongue, how much of Keith he can fit in without choking, how—

“ _Keith._

Keith startles so bad he slams his knees on the underside of the table. He doesn’t blush often but he’s blushing now. He’s not sure which part is more embarrassing—being caught daydreaming while he’s supposed to be cramming or the fact that just thinking about his boyfriend on his knees has Keith leaking in his sweats. 

“Yeah,” Keith croaks, going for casual. 

Shiro arches one thick eyebrow, and Keith knows he’s failed. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Keith answers immediately. 

“Mhmm,” Shiro hums, pulling out his earbuds. He wraps the cord around his fingers, snapping a binder clip around them so they don’t get tangled and lays them beside his textbook which he marks with a clear post it note before slamming it shut. 

“What are you doing?” Keith asks dumbstruck by what he’s seeing. Shiro was only only on chapter four. They’ve got two more to go before they can call it a night. 

“I’m taking a break,” he says, rising from the table. “I need it.” 

He’s so casual about it, reaching his arms above his head and stretching. It makes his Star Wars hoodie pull up, revealing a pale strip of skin at his waist and the fairest hint of dark hair. It’s enough to make Keith ache and ignore the fact that Shiro’s never willingly uttered the words _I need a break_ before.

“You have anything in mind? A run maybe,” Keith offers. It’s a testament to how desperate he is to not study that he’s voluntarily offering to go for a run, especially with an erection. But if Shiro needs a break, the best thing to clear his head is fresh air. 

“I was thinking something a bit more indoor focused to get my heart racing.”

“Oh, yeah. Cool. You’re gonna hit the gym then? I could spot you if you want or—oh my god what are you doing,” Keith grunts when Shiro crosses the room and unexpectedly lifts him. On instinct he wraps his legs around Shiro’s waist. 

“I was thinking about something more along the lines of a horizontal workout.”

Keith snorts. “, Shiro.”

“I dunno, your dick liked it,” Shiro says, turning his gaze down to Keith’s dick which is visibly hard even through his sweats—along with the wet spot in the crotch. 

“My dick likes everything about you, don’t get a big head,” Keith laughs as Shiro turns sideways to maneuver them through the doorway. He has to step over Keith’s sneakers, backpack and jacket to get to his bedroom. Keith would resolve to be less messy but he knows he won’t, especially when his two options upon arriving home after class is to either put his shit where it belongs, or spend those precious minutes before he needs to begin studying kissing Shiro. 

Shiro will always win. 

“Pretty sure you were the one calling my head big a few days ago,” Shiro says with a lascivious grin as he wiggles his hips. He looks so pleased with himself and only someone like Shiro could make that level of ridiculous self satisfaction look both hot as fuck and sweet. 

“You could always put it inside of me again. Just to double check.”

Shiro’s cheeks pink further, his hands digging into Keith’s ass as they move into his room. 

“Yeah, you want me to fuck you?”

Keith arches against Shiro, his dick rubbing against the flat of Shiro’s clothes belly. “Baby, I want anything you want.”

“Anything?” Shiro asks, plopping Keith down on the bed. 

“Fuck yes,” Keith says, yanking his tank top off in record speed. He’s so busy trying to kick off his sweats and boxers it takes him a moment to realize Shiro’s not shedding his clothes and pouncing onto Keith nor is he responding. 

Keith looks up to find Shiro tugging at the cuffs of his hoodie. How someone so big can look so small sometimes makes the ground beneath Keith’s feet feel unsteady. 

“Baby, talk to me.”

Shiro laughs, scrubbing his hands over his cheeks. “Can I just...can I touch you first?”

“Okay,” Keith breathes, scooting back on the bed and spreading his legs to make room.

The thing about Shiro is there’s no pushing him. Keith knows when he’s ready he’s gonna tell him what’s on his mind, sometimes he just needs to ease into it on his own. Or accidentally blurt it out. Both have happened more than once and as long as Shiro’s telling him of his own volition Keith’s happy. 

Between Keith’s lack of experience and Shiro’s body issues post accident, they’re muddling their way through open communication in bed. There've been a few stumbling blocks along the way, but they’re getting there together. 

“Thought you said something about touching me, big boy,” Keith teases, patting the empty space between his legs when he catches Shiro still standing there staring and not getting naked. 

“Yes. That I did,” Shiro laughs, reaching behind his head to grab the back of his hoodie and yank it off in one go. It makes Shiro’s floof stick up to one side. There was a time when Shiro would have blushed or crossed his arms to cover the scars that line his chest, but now he merely ducks his head and grins when he catches Keith watching him undress. 

To show his appreciation, Keith lets out a long, low whistle. That does the trick and Shiro blushes from the top of stupidly cute big ears to his chest. 

“Like what you see?” Shiro asks, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his sweats and slowly tugging them down. Very slowly. A rush of heat floods Keith’s chest at how far Shiro’s come in such a short time—how much he trusts his insecurities with Keith. He inches them down slowly revealing the sharp V of his hips and the delicious trail of thick dark hair that Keith knows leads to his equally thick dick. There was a time when Shiro barely believed how gorgeous he was and, well—sometimes Keith’s still not sure he sees it but he definitely believes Keith which makes Keith feel hot all over. He’s never had anyone look at him the way Shiro looks, trust him the way Shiro trusts. 

Times like this though, where Shiro gets a little bolder with his body, going so far as to even tease Keith—that he really likes. Confidence is a good look on Shiro. Then again, everything is a good look on him. 

“You know I do. Stop stalling and show me the goods,” Keith laughs.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Shiro says, right hand slipping beneath the waistband to palm at his dick. 

“Fuck you’re hot,” Keith groans, his own dick twitching in jealousy. He wants those enormous hands on his own dick, or to get his hands on Shiro’s dick. Or anything really that doesn’t involve the current six feet of space between them. 

“You’re biased,” Shiro says, his left hand tugging the waistband down enough that Keith can see Shiro’s metal fingers curling around his dick.

“I’m not biased. I'm in the perfect position to appreciate how truly gorgeous you are. I bet you sound just as pretty too, don’t you? Bet your heart is thudding so hard because I’m watching you touch yourself.”

Shiro’s hand stills, a soft moan falling from his lips. 

“Yeah,” Keith breathes, his own heart beginning to race as he moves onto his hands and knees to crawl to the edge of the bed, eager to get closer to Shiro. He knows he’s playing a little dirty, knows Shiro won’t be able to resist what he’s saying but Keith’s so hard and he wants Shiro so bad. “Bet your heart is already speeding up. You’re so turned on already, just from a few strokes of your own hand but that’s not enough for you. I can make it race, baby...”

“Fuck, Keith.”

“Yes fuck, Keith. Come to the bed and let’s fuck.”

Shiro shoves his sweats down so fast it’s almost comical, kicking them off and racing to the bed—his socks still on his feet.

“Your mouth should be illegal,” Shiro groans, bed dipping beneath his weight as he climbs on and attaches his mouth to Keith’s.

“You love my mouth,” Keith gets out between kisses.

Shiro hums his agreement, hands cupping Keith’s face as his body aligns with Keith’s. The slide of their lips together is delicious and Keith’s barely able to repress his own moan as Shiro urges him backward, their knees shuffling across the bed. It’s a little difficult to move without breaking the kiss but after weeks of the barest of sexual intimacy, neither of them are inclined to stop now that they’ve started.

“God, I missed kissing you,” Keith gasps, sucking Shiro’s bottom lip into his mouth as Shiro’s hands slide down the back of his neck and continue even further down tracing the line of his spine. 

They’ve kissed recently, and touched, but nothing like this. Keith can already feel the desperation building, some of his own nervous energy from before crackling as it shifts and transforms into something else. This. This is what Keith needed, he just hadn’t known it.

Every time Keith tries to deepen the kiss Shiro slows him down, taking the kiss from something frantic to something sensual and slow as Shiro’s lips move against his own. 

Keith’s so focused on the way Shiro’s kissing him that it takes him by surprise when he realizes Shiro’s hand is between their bodies, resting on his chest as Shiro's focus shifts.

“What are you—oh,” Keith breathes.

“Your heart is racing,” Shiro marvels. 

“Yeah, well you’re touching me,” Keith whispers, unsure why his chest suddenly feels full of butterflies.

“Racing from me,” Shiro says, with such unmistakable awe Keith goes weak in the knee. “I want to, can I—”

“You can do anything you want, Shiro,” Keith tells him.

Shiro bites down on his bottom lip and nods before pressing his hands on Keith’s chest. Keith gets the idea, laying back on the pillows as Shiro situates himself between Keith’s legs. 

“So pretty,” Shiro says as he splays his fingers wide and drags his hands across Keith’s chest and down his hips, staring at him with an intensity that leaves Keith feeling stripped bare.

It’s not that Shiro never touches him. Of course he does. Shiro’s one of the most tactile people Keith has ever met. He’s always touching Keith in and out of the bedroom. It’s just that between their busy schedules and trying to take things slow, they haven’t had a lot of time for sex like this. Usually Keith who takes the lead. Shiro’s always been a little more bashful about what he wants and likes. Shiro’s not passive by any means. He gives as good as he gets, touching and kissing and frotting and moaning. But most of the time it’s not until Keith’s set the pace that Shiro is able to let go.

It’s not Keith leading right now though.

Shiro slows even more as he drops his mouth to Keith’s chest kissing each of his scars as he moves down his body. By the time his mouth settles near Keith’s belly button, he’s trying to arch up, eager to get a bit of friction against his leaking dick but Shiro puts his hands on Keith’s hips, gently keeping him in place.

“So impatient,” he murmurs, turning his gorgeous eyes on Keith as he mouths his way down Keith’s belly.

“Wanna fuck,” Keith says, too turned on to be embarrassed by the petulant tone of his own voice.

Shiro chuckles, the sound reverberating against Keith’s stomach. “We will. Just be patient.”

Keith groans, throwing his arm over his head. “You’re gonna kill me, Shiro.”

There’s another soft rumble of laughter as Shiro’s hands inch lower, the breadth of his fingers digging into the soft flesh of Keith’s thighs as he spreads them wider. 

“Yes, good. This is good,” Keith says, spreading his legs as wide as they can. Shiro’s mouth is so close to his dick now that anticipation wells up in Keith as he imagines his dick sinking into that wet, warmth. A warmth that doesn’t come. Instead Shiro’s mouth bypasses his dick and moves lower.

“For someone who just spent three hours studying anatomy you seem to have forgotten where my dick is.”

Shiro barks out a laugh as his hands make their way over to Keith’s right hip then lower to the juncture where it meets his thigh. It doesn't take long for Keith to realize what Shiro is doing as he seeks out Keith’s femoral artery, searching for his pulse point. 

Somehow the realization makes him flush. Most of the time it’s Keith seeking out Shiro's pulse points or pressing his steth to Shiro’s chest as he jerks him off, not the other way around.

There's a little crow of excitement when Shiro finds the pulse, the pads of his fingers pressing firmly as he counts silently, his eyes flying up to Keith’s. “It’s so fast.”

Before Keith can say _of course it is have you seen yourself_ , Shiro’s dropping his mouth and sucks, hard. Shiro moans, his tongue lapping against the pulse point and Keith nearly swallows his own tongue. The harder Shiro sucks, the harder his heart beats, and the faster it thrums the more Shiro’s sucks.

When Shiro finally pulls back to breathe, there’s a dark purple mark on Keith’s hip.

Keith lets out a grunt, rendered speechless as he wonders if this is what Shiro feels like whenever Keith pays attention to his heart. It’s exposing to gave someone so focused on it, and hot as fuck.

“I want to touch you more,” Shiro whispers, kissing the mark on Keith’s hip. “But…”

“You can do anything you want, Shiro. I’m not going to say no.”

Shiro blows out a breath, his thumb returning to the pulse point as he seeks out Keith’s eyes. “I want to fuck you with my mouth.”

For a brief moment, Keith’s rendered speechless. Shiro wants to tongue fuck him. Shiro wants to put his mouth on Keith’s ass. Shiro’s incredibly talented, beautiful mouth licking into him is the most erotic idea Keith’s ever heard.

“Holy shit, Keith. Your heart is racing.”

Keith grunts, unable to find the words to properly express how turned on he is by the idea, or by the fact that Shiro said it out loud.

The thumb at his hip strokes over the pulse point as Shiro grins, clearly emboldened by such a clear proof of Keith’s desire. 

“You like that idea? You want me licking you open, sweetheart?”

The only sound Keith is capable of is a whine. No one’s ever come close to doing that to him and he wants. Fuck he wants.

“Fuck,” Shiro exhales, scrambling up Keith’s body to kiss him. “Perfect. You’re so perfect.“

Normally that’s Keith’s line, but he’s too turned on to have a witty comeback as Shiro rolls his hips against Keith and kisses him.

“I’ve been thinking about this all week.”

“Fuck, Shiro. You can’t just say things like that,” Keith groans between kisses.

Shiro pulls back laughing. “Says the man with the world’s filthiest mouth.”

“You’ve really been thinking about it?” Keith asks. It almost feels a little silly to feel so surprised by the confession. Shiro’s told him how much he likes Keith and every time Keith listens to his heart he’s left in no doubt of the way he affects him. But hearing the desire spoken aloud, especially something filthy like this, hits differently. Very differently.

“Yes. You’ve got no idea.”

“Tell me,” Keith gasps as Shiro rubs his cheek against the inside of Keith’s right thigh as he drags his fingers down the left one. “Come on, baby. Tell me.”

“Jesus, Keith.”

“You wanna open me up with your pretty mouth, Shiro? Gonna make me—oh,” Keith gasps, surprised when instead of putting his mouth on Keith’s ass Shiro moves it lower towards his knee. “That’s not my ass.”

“Astute observation, Kogane.”

“And you call me the smart ass,” Keith laughs, raising himself up onto his elbows to see what Shiro’s doing. “That’s my knee.”

“It’s a nice knee.”

“Don’t tell me you have a knee kink,” Keith jokes.

“No, I don’t have a knee kink,” Shiro snorts, though the tips of his ears do redden further. He mumbles something unintelligible, palming at Keith’s leg.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch that. You’re gonna have to speak up, baby.”

Shiro’s definitely blushing now as he guides Keith’s leg into a bent position and wraps his hands around his knee, his fingers pressing into the bend. “I'm looking for your popliteal pulse.”

“Oh,” Keith breathes, the funny feeling in his chest returning as along the midline of the popliteal fossa. Keith can tell when Shiro’s found it by the look on his face—pleasure mixed with pride as he counts the beats.

“Oh, it’s speeding up,” Shiro observes, hands remaining still.

“Uh, yeah well you know—yeah,” Keith mumbles, unused to feeling wrong footed during sex. This is usually his area to shine, his area to feel confident. Right now all he feels is a little wobbly inside.

Shiro’s the one who likes to be listened to, and Keith likes to listen. It feels good to touch Shiro in places that make him whimper, feels empowering and erotic to hear the way Shiro’s heart beats for him. He’s not used to it being used the other way around. Sure Shiro likes to listen to Keith, but it’s more of a calming thing. Or at least it has been until now. Sometimes when Shiro is stressed he shoves his face into Keith’s chest and stays there and it's not uncommon for Shiro to fall asleep with his head pillowed on Keith’s chest, whispering sweetly about the way Keith’s heart beats like a lullaby.

This is something else. This is Shiro paying attention to Keith in a way he never has before and it makes Keith feel, well—exposed. And aroused. Keith doesn’t have a heart thing like Shiro, or at least he doesn’t think he does. He enjoys it because Shiro enjoys it. Besides, hearts are really fucking cool and amazing the idea that just listening to someone else’s heart beating can key you into how they’re feeling is insane when you really think about it and—and it’s totally normal that Keith’s dick leaks and his heart races from Shiro palpating his pulse. Anyone would feel this way if they had Shiro’s large hands on them like this, those soft grey eyes focused on nothing but them.

After a few moments Shiro releases Keith’s knee, and Keith releases the breath he’s been holding. Shiro doesn’t stop there. 

Before Shiro gets his mouth anywhere near Keith’s ass he travels down the rest of Keith’s body, peppering kisses across his calves until he gets to the knobby ankle. Shiro locates the posterior tibial artery easily, palpating it with wide eyes before pressing a chaste kiss to the pulse. Then he moves on to Keith’s foot, cradling the arch in his hands as he seeks out the dorsalis pedis artery. He kisses that too.

By the time he’s setting Keith’s foot down to the bed Keith’s legs are trembling and his dick feels like it might explode.

Fuck, he thinks. He’s got a fucking heart thing.

It’s his last coherent thought before Shiro begins his ascent up Keith’s body, lavishing as much attention to the mundane spots like the back of his calve and the side of his knee on the way up as he had on the way down. The difference is this time Keith’s not waiting for something happening, he’s relishing in every touch.

“God, Shiro,” Keith shudders, his hands fisting in the sheets when Shiro sucks a row of love bites into his opposite thigh.

“I love touching you,” Shiro murmurs, smoothing his hands down Keith’s.

“The feeling is mutual,” Keith gets out, surprised he’s still capable of a full sentence. His heart is beating so hard now he’s surprised Shiro can’t hear it. Or maybe he can, maybe that’s why he’s being so bold. 

The idea that Keith’s arousal is what is fueling Shiro on, making him braver than usual, makes Keith’s heart skip a beat. Keith thought he understood how vulnerable Shiro felt that first time, but if today is even one tenth of how Shiro felt then it’s a marvel he didn’t actually pass out. This level of attention is overwhelming in ways Keith’s entirely unused to.

Shiro’s hands move to Keith’s hips, tapping them. A part of Keith is aware that Shiro probably means for him to roll over but Keith’s brain is running slow, his attention still drifting back to the way it’d felt to have Shiro’s lips on his pulse points.

“Sweetheart,” Shiro whispers, giving Keith’s hips a gentle squeeze. “Roll over.” 

His voice is rich and sweet as honey and Keith wants to do what he says. He wants to do anything and everything Shiro asks. It’s a strange feeling for Keith whose teenage years were defined by his refusal to listen to _anyone_. He wants so much that he’s incapable of doing anything, including rolling over.

When Keith doesn’t move, Shiro’s entire demeanor changes—lips thinning into a worried little frown. “We don’t have to do this if it’s too much, or uh...not something you’re into. We can do something else or—”

“I’m nervous,” Keith blurts. “No one has ever rimmed me before.”

Shiro’s expression softens immediately, understanding flashing across his face as he rubs his thumb in soothing circles over Keith’s hip. “I’ve uh, never done this either. I might be really bad at it and you might hate it.”

“Pretty sure that’s literally not possible,” Keith tells him, some of his unease dissipating. This is familiar territory. Just talking to Shiro, being open with each other. Keith can do this. It’s not that different.

“So then you want—”

Keith nods, rolling onto his hands and knees. “Yes, I want you to fuck me with your tongue. So fucking much.”

There’s a shaky exhale followed by Shiro’s warm hands stroking over his back. He’s quiet as he moves his hands down to guide Keith’s knees a little wider, then moves them back up to Keith’s ass.

Keith is hyper aware of each of Shiro’s movements, his heart in his throat as Shiro’s soft hands dig into the meaty flesh of his ass. As with everything he does, Shiro’s taking his time. It’s wonderful and horrible because Keith feels like he might lose his mind if Shiro doesn’t do something soon.

That something turns out to be the last thing Keith expects.

The bed dips beneath Shiro’s substantial weight as he moves, but instead of getting his mouth on Keith’s ass he rests his cheek at Keith’s lower back, arms twining around his middle as he presses a kiss to Keith’s spine.

“I love you,” Shiro whispers and Keith is absolutely ruined.

“Shiro,” he croaks.

“I love you so much,” Shiro tells him, another kiss pressed to the hollow of his spine. 

It takes Keith a few moments to realize the quiver he feels isn’t coming from Shiro’s body pressed against his, but from his own body. 

It takes Keith a few seconds to get the words out, his mouth dry and insides like mush. “I love you too, baby.”

A contented sigh rattles out of Shiro’s chest as he kisses his way lower whispering more words of praise that have Keith shoving his face into his pillow to keep from screaming, or worse—whining. 

Shiro’s not as vocal as Keith during sex, but what he lacks in words he more than makes up for in the way he touches Keith—his hands reverent and attentive as they sweep over his body until Keith’s a trembling mess and Shiro hasn’t even got his mouth on Keith’s ass yet.

The first swipe of Shiro’s tongue against his entrance is a surprise, if only because Keith’s been so focused on the way Shiro’s deft fingers feel spreading his cheeks wide he doesn’t think about why he’s being opened wide.

“Fuck,” Keith curses when Shiro does it again.

If Shiro’s fingers and dick feel good, it’s nothing compared to Shiro’s tongue swiping across his hole. Shiro’s barely even doing anything, still a little tentative as his tongue drags over the furrowed flesh in small swipes. But it’s a tongue— _Shiro’s tongue_ —dragging over his most sensitive area and it feels so good. So fucking good.

“More. Fuck, please more,” Keith grits out, not caring if he’s begging already. If anything could reduce a man to this, it would be Shiro’s talented mouth. If it feels this good on the outside he can barely imagine how good it might feel _inside_.

“It’s good?” Shiro asks, his thumbs holding Keith’s cheeks wide and his breath hot against Keith’s hole.

“Yes,” Keith gasps, arching his hips back in a desperate attempt to get Shiro’s mouth on him again. “Good. So good. Baby please.”

“Yes, sir,” Shiro laughs, giving Keith’s ass a squeeze.

“I’ve been a bad influence on you, you’re turning into a—oh fucking fuck,” Keith nearly screams, his entire body trembling as Shiro’s nose presses into the crease of his ass and his tongue slips into the tight ring of muscle. Shiro is nothing if not determined and it doesn’t take long before it’s more than just the tip of his tongue jabbing in, but almost the entire thing.

It’s filthy. So filthy. Keith’s never heard anything like the guttural grunts and groans Shiro makes as his spit drips down the back of Keith’s thighs. Once Shiro gets going he really gets going, sucking and licking and turning Keith into a fucking mess. He pulls back periodically to catch his breath, but it’s no reprieve for Keith’s over sensitive ass because while Shiro pants against his ass he massages Keith’s cheeks, his fingers tracing around the perennial muscle over and over until Keith’s relaxed enough he could probably take Shiro’s dick.

Instead, it’s fingers. Shiro’s beautiful, thick as fuck fingers slipping inside. They’re slicked up with lube and Keith’s so far gone in a haze of arousal he hadn’t even noticed Shiro reaching for the tube they keep in the bedside table. Shiro’s methodical, stretching Keith wide and fingering him open as he sucks Keith’s ass cheek. 

Keith knows he’s talking, can hear the words falling from his lips but none of it makes any sense. The only thing Keith knows is that he’s aching to be filled, slicked up with lube and Shiro’s spit as he rocks his ass into the air.

“So pretty, look at you,” Shiro groans, cupping Keith’s cheeks in his hands.

“If you don’t fuck me soon I might die,” Keith wails, his hands fisted so tightly in the sheets he’s genuinely afraid he might rip them. He doesn’t wanna rip them. They cost a fucking fortune and he only bought them because Shiro doesn’t sleep enough and Keith’s desperate to do anything to make their bed a safe haven for him. 

Right now it’s less of a safe haven and more of a sex den. The luxe cotton feels again against Keith’s flushed skin, especially his dick as he rocks his hips into the mattress.

“Patience, sweetheart,” Shiro murmurs, nipping at Keith’s right ass cheek.

Keith very nearly screams when Shiro drags his thumb down the crack, teasing his hole.

“Fuck.”

“God, I bet your heart is racing,” Shiro whispers. Before Keith can say anything Shiro dives back in, making the most obscene sound Keith’s ever heard as he slurps and sucks at Keith’s hole, over and over until there are actual tears leaking out of the corner of Keith’s eyes and chills shooting down his spin.

“Please, baby. Fuck me. God please fuck me,” Keith wails again, rising up onto all fours and thrusting his hips backward. At this point he’s pretty sure if Shiro doesn’t fuck him right now he might actually die.

He doesn’t realize he’s said it out loud until Shiro laughs softly, smoothing his hands down the back of Keith’s thigh.

“Death by ass fucking,” Shiro muses, sounding equal parts amused and pleased. Keith’s not used to that kind of cockiness in the bedroom and it does something to Keith.

“ _Baby._ ”

It’s only one word but it gets through to Shiro like nothing else, the bed beneath him deep as Shiro’s stomach covers Keith’s back.

“That’s it, let me take care of you,” Shiro whispers, breath warm against the shell of Keith’s ear as Shiro’s dick makes its way inside.

Keith’s not sure what to do with the rush of feelings that statement invokes. Keith’s the one who takes care of people. 

“God you feel so good,” Shiro groans, covering Keith’s hands with his own as his legs knock up against Keith's, their bodies aligned from head to toe. Everything is Shiro—the sound of his heavy breathing, the drag of his dick and the feeling of his weight nearly crushing Keith as he fucks him into the mattress. He’s caged in on all sides by Shiro and it’s absolute fucking bliss. The white noise that’s been buzzing in his ears the last hour or so as he fought off his restlessness is nowhere to be found, replaced by the _thump thump_ of Keith’s heart as Shiro gives him what quite honestly feels like the best dicking down of his life.

Shiro’s fingers link within his own as Shiro rocks and it’s all Keith can do not to actually cry. Shiro’s always sweet, always attentive, and he always makes Keith feel good. But this feels _different_ in a way Keith doesn’t know how to articulate.

Normally Keith never shuts up. For once, he’s lost for words. All he can do is grunt and groan and moan as Shiro rocks his hips slowly, bottoming out on every thrust and sending shock waves of pleasure through Keith.

Keith’s so close his dick aches, hanging heavy between his legs as he leaks on the sheets staining them with his own impatience. He’s never come without being touched but he feels so close, his legs shaking and his mouth hanging open on a whimper.

Then Shiro does something that has Keith sobbing. He untangles his left hand from Keith’s and moves it to his neck, fingers lightly pressing into the pulse point at his neck. Shiro’s palpating him during sex. Shiro can feel how he’s set Keith’s heart racing.

Shiro’s got every single ounce of his attention focused on Keith and it’s the single most overwhelming moment of his life. One moment he’s making a hiccuping sound as he arches his neck to expose it to Shiro and the next he’s coming as Shiro wraps strong arms around him to hold him up.

It’s soothing, so damn soothing. Shiro thrusts a few more times before his hips stutter and then he’s shoving his face into the back of Keith’s neck and letting out the soft little mewling sound he makes when he comes.

Once Shiro’s come down, he guides them both onto their sides, wrapping himself around Keith from behind before entwining his fingers with Keith’s and bringing their joined hands up to rest against Keith’s chest.

“I think you killed me,” Keith grunts, every inch of him melting into the mattress.

“Nngghh,” is the most intelligible answer Shiro can muster so Keith assumes the feeling is mutual. 

They’re sweaty and sticky and need a shower but for right now Keith’s too blissed out and relaxed to care.

“Feeling better?” Shiro asks, thumb soothing over the back of Keith’s hand.

Keith blinks, somehow not at all surprised that Shiro has picked up on his mood earlier.,

“Yeah, sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin our study session.”

“If I’m not allowed to apologize for what I need, then neither are you,” Shiro tells him, kissing the back of his shoulder.

“Fair point,” Keith breathes, resisting the urge to apologize again. He knows Shiro is right, but it’s a lot easier to take care of Shiro than himself.

“Think you’re up for finishing the chapter now?” Shiro asks.

“Give me ten minutes.”

“If you change the sheets, I’ll put on a pot of coffee and order takeaway. That new Mexican place down the street with the homemade salsas you love is on DoorDash now.”

“God, I love you. Burritos and coffee. You’re speaking my love language here,” Keith laughs. “You’ve got a deal.”

“Deal,” Shiro repeats, peppering kisses across Keith’s shoulders as his eyes drift shut. In a few minutes they need to get clean and get back to studying, but for just right now Keith’s more relaxed than he’s been in a very long time.

**Author's Note:**

> Come scream about Sheith with me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/goldentruth813)


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